If I Could See You Again
by Lealfaithful
Summary: Post Aliyah. Yiruma Collection #3 Sometimes, memories arn't to be shared with other people. Sometimes, they're just to painful to live with. Character Death


**If I Could See You Again- Yiruma**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, its characters, or the song If I Could See You Again. **

**Character Death and sad, so be careful. Thank you!**

_**xXx**_

The light shown dimly in the cabin, as it always did even when the sun was bright on the ocean waves. There were men sitting around the cabin, some on the floor others on the bed, quiet other then the occasional grunt in Hebrew. They listened to hear the murmurs on deck, a helicopter, or another ship approaching. They listened for a fight. Most did not move much. One man started pacing, not out of nervousness, but probably to keep a quickly falling asleep leg awake. The others watched him silently.

Suddenly, the ship rocked. A case came tumbling from the storage compartment above the bed. It hit the pacing man on the head, "Ow! Damn it!" The case fell on the floor, popping open, contents spilling out on the floor. It was mainly cloths; cargo pants and black shirts, cropped to fit a slip woman.

"That must be David's," a man said, sitting on a bed, "better close it soon."

A few men knelt onto the floor and started collecting the clothing and few knives that had scattered in the cabin. One man picked up a series of grey shirts, "Hey, look at this."

Everyone turned to the man on the floor; he had a wrinkled picture in his hand, staring curiously at the photo. Another crawled over and took the picture, "It is of Ziva."

"And some over man."

The man was taller then her, and about her age. He had a strong jaw, a wide smile, and slightly ruffled, short brown hair. The man had his arms around Ziva, and they where laughing.

"Does Ziva have a husband?" One asked.

The men in the cabin shook their heads, because they didn't know. Another with a small build took the picture, "Looks American."

"David looks so…happy," man said looking over the shoulder of the one holding the picture.

"I guess a boyfriend," he shrugged.

Suddenly, the door opened and Ziva quickly entered the room. She stopped and looked around, surprised to find men on the floor with her trunk open, "What happened?"

She bent down and finished collecting the cloths as the others backed off. The one with her picture muttered, "Your case fell and hit Caleb on the head. We were just picking it up."

"Oh well then-"

Ziva stopped. She stared at the man with the picture she had turned to speak to. She grabbed the picture out of his hand in a heartbeat, face furious.

"Uh…your husband?" one asked bravely.

She didn't answer, just bent down and folded her closes, whipping up her knives for all to see, and then hiding them in her case.

"So what's his name?" a man on a bed asked. He got a head slap from the man next to him.

Ziva zipped up her trunk, slipping the picture into her back pocket. She looked angry, or sad, it was hard to tell, "Tony."

"Oh, he is Italian."

_**xXx**_

That night, Ziva crawled onto the deck, unseen the dark shadows of the ship. She sat hidden among some cargo boxes piled in no order what so ever. The light was extremely low, but enough for her to see. Ziva pulled out the picture of her and Tony, wrinkled and ripped, but once cared for dearly. Her fingers skipped over his face, tracing their smiles.

There was a sharp pain forming in the center of her chest, lulling at the back of her eyes and crawling up to scream in her head. _Why did I leave? Why did I leave everything I loved for a life I swore I hated? Where is the logic in that Ziva? _

Another voice yelled back, _He killed the man you cared about! Gibbs didn't stop you and he knew! Even Abby hasn't tried to get a hold of you. They didn't love you, so why should you torture yourself back there?_

The fighting didn't make the pain any better. It rose up to a burning sadness, clenching her very being. Ziva stared at the picture, _If only I could see you again._

_What would you do then, Ziva?_

Her own question struck her for a moment. Ziva shook her head violently; _I would tell him I did not want to leave him; that I was sorry for my anger at him. I would tell him that his smile makes me swoon, and that I love to hear him laugh. Watching him and McGee bicker was a highlight of my day. And that when he was kind…I would tell him I loved him. If I could see him again._

"Wake up! Pirates!"

Ziva jumped up at the yelling, fighting off the dream state she'd been in. She looked out to see a medium sized ship coming towards them. She tucked the picture back into her pocket and started running.

_**xXx**_

"DiNozzo!"

"Yes, Director?" Tony looked up from his desk towards the staircase where Vance was standing.

"Where is Gibbs, McGee?"

Tony stood up and walked over to the stair case, "They went to a crime scene, Director, anything I can do for you?"

Vance stared at the senior field agent for a moment, as to study him, "Come up to my office. I have some news. You might as well be the first to know."

_**xXx**_

"I am so sorry, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony stared at Vance, feeling like whatever had been left in his almost dead body was finally gone. Tony couldn't breathe. He didn't believe it, "She's gone?"

"Mossad collected her body from a Somalia torture camp. She will be receiving the funeral of a soldier in Tel Aviv this Thursday. I was just informed."

"Ziva," Tony whispered to himself, "Oh God, Ziva."

Vance played with a paperweight on his desk, "We'll be flying out tomorrow."

_**xXx**_

It was cold that day. As cold as it gets in Israel, really. The sun was shining in a strange, agonizing light gold. It was teasing him, Tony could almost swear. The way the sun filled up the sky, but didn't touch his skin. The burial site was gray and also contradicting to his mood. It looked peaceful, oddly. He hated that.

Tony looked on the wood casket. They said she was dressed in the traditional white and there had been no autopsy, even the rabbi had offered to look over her. The mournful sounds of Eyl Malei Rahamim rang through his ears as the casket the lowered into the earth. Some men started to toss dirt onto the grave. A knife jerked at his chest. She was really gone. Really, really gone.

"_Gever, gever_!"

He looked down to his right side. A little girl stood looking up at him, her bright brown eyes boring into his. She pushed a black ribbon up towards him and mumbled something in Hebrew. Tony just stared at it for a moment and the girl pushed it towards him with force, "_Gever_!"

"Uh, who…why do you give this to me?" Tony said, not sure if the girl knew English, bending down and taking the ribbon. The girl shook her head. She turned and pointed behind her. Tony followed her head to Eli David. He was staring at them somberly. Suddenly Tony stood straight up. Tony thanked the little girl in Hebrew, and then set off to Eli. The man's eyes where the saddest Tony though they could get, which still wasn't horribly broken. Anger burned low in his stomach. It felt like _he_ was the one who killed Ziva. Tony knew otherwise, but it felt like it.

"It is custom for the immediate family to wear black cloth," Eli nodded and flashed his own. His eyes turned hard on Tony, "I let you wear one because my daughter loved you. I am not old enough to let things like that pass. I do not like you, but, for Ziva, you shall take the place of her husband in my eyes. And as it should be everyone else's."

Tony stared at the older man as he walked away. He looked down at the ribbon in his hand, and, again, the knife came back. He'd thought about her every moment since Vance as told him. He hadn't eaten, slept, or even cared about anything. They'd tried to talk to him. Abby, McGee, Ducky, even Gibbs. They really did, but they all knew it was hopeless. Love can't be true without pain.

He slowly tied the black piece onto his arm. He turned around to where his team and Vance where standing, starting to form a line. For the first time since Vance had called him into his office, Tony smiled. It was small and broken, but it was a smile. He walked towards them, glancing at where Ziva's casket was being covered. Tony thought about the tiny clear bottle, hiding in his case at the hotel room. Once he got back, he knew what to do.

_If I could see you again, Ziva_.

_**xXx**_

**It was short and sad. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't fit much more into this piece. Sorry I lied on the last one. I couldn't do Love Me. Maybe I'll do that next time, or Dreams. Reminder: check out my profile for the other Yiruma NCIS fanfics so DON'T ALERT TO THIS STORY. Alert to me or just check my profile every so often. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Review!**

**Also, if something about the funeral is wrong, sorry! Some of my family is Jewish, and I've been to only one Jewish funeral, so this is based off what I remember. Sorry!**

**Laelia**


End file.
